


One of My Own

by RosettaStarlight



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Bonding, Adopted Children, Alucard deserves to be happy, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya Needs a Hug, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Because WHAT was season 3, Children, Dhampirs, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Has Issues, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healing, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I wrote this because Alucard was done way too dirty season 3, I'd like to say Alucard adopts these kids but in reality THEY adopt HIM, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, In which a little girl decides she's gonna be his friend whether he likes it or not, Magic, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Mild Language, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Parent-Child Relationship, Platonic Relationships, Post-Castlevania (Cartoon) Season 3, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya, Sirens, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Creatures, Tags Are Hard, Vampires, Werewolves, because as much as i love vampires they're not like the only supernatural monsters to exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosettaStarlight/pseuds/RosettaStarlight
Summary: "Everyone has their own trauma, not just you..." Alucard looked up from his hunched position. Slowly, giving him any chance to back away if he wished, gentle hands cupped his face. "No one leaves this life unscathed, whether they show their scars or choose to hide them. It's a sad truth of the world, and some of those scars never fade, but they do eventually start to scab over. Whether or not you let them define you, though...that's up to you."Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes has lost faith in humanity, abandoned and betrayed by one too many. Left to wonder if his father had been right after all and slowly losing his mind in the lonely void of his castle, Alucard struggles to keep it together. So when a naive child accidentally wanders onto his land, Alucard's first instinct is to stay on the hostile. Except she keeps coming back. No matter how often he sends her away or threatens her and her brother whose bruises make him wonder but never ask. A small glimmer of hope persists, growing with each visit, one that keeps him from ever following through with his promises of death, and leaves him unsure of his own thoughts.OR:In which a little girl adopts a sad dhampir. And makes it everyone else's problem.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Original Character(s), Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Original Female Character(s), Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Original Male Character(s), Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya & Trevor Belmont & Sypha Belnades, they're more mentioned but i think it counts
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	1. Prologue: Strange

**Author's Note:**

> Creators: *making Alucard sad to make his arc of turning into a bad guy more plausible in season 4*  
> Fangirls armed with the power of fanfiction, headcanons and fanart:... No. *wraps him in a blanket* You'll get him back when you learn to play nice.
> 
> Like, seriously...dude is depressed. In a short amount of time (for him, at least, since he was asleep healing for about a year) he literally just killed his father, grew up way too fast both mentally and physically from what he's been through, watched his mother die, fought for the lives of her murderers, had his father try to kill HIM, was sheltered most of his life and managed to get attached to Sypha and Trevor, only for their bright idea be to leave him on his own in that big ass castle with only his memories both good and bad to keep him company. How does that seem a remotely good idea for his mental health?!
> 
> And I'm still pissed what they did with Taka and Sumi, but I'll leave that rant for the end notes.

> 
>     ❝Am I the only one that feels this way?  
>     > 
>     I keep on running, but I can't escape❞

_The supernatural had long made their existence known to the world. Beasts who feasted on blood, beasts who appeared human until the full moon rose high in the sky, spirits whose wail foretold doom, humans who could wield magic, women whose enchanting melody brought even the strongest-willed to their knees to do their bidding, creatures of the night, of wings, claws and teeth arisen from myth and legend. Not all were benevolent, just as not all solely existed to bring chaos and merciless destruction on humanity._

_Not that long ago, one of these monsters, the infamous Dracula himself, lost in grief, tried to summon an army of them to destroy mankind in vengeance for the death of his beloved wife. Someone stopped him, of course. Otherwise, there'd...well, really be no one to tell the story, would there?_

_A Hunter and a Speaker joined together with the son of their enemy to bring down the mighty vampire and his hoard of demons. Obviously, they won, as the forces of good always do, the group parted ways and the Hunter and Speaker left behind this tragic prince of darkness to watch over the castle of Dracula—the castle of his father—and the Belmont Hold, a place of sunken knowledge buried well under rubble, forsaken by the God-fearing people of Wallachia. The Hunter and Speaker traveled to help others and slay the monsters that roamed the earth while the princeling tried to train a new generation of monster hunters who stumbled onto his home._

_Everyone lived happily ever after._

.....

Why couldn't they just let him _die_?

Alucard had lived through quite a lot, in a short amount of time, forced to grow faster than most only to stop, and possibly never age again. But he wished he _hadn't_. Everything he endured, he'd survived. And then was left to deal with the aftermath. 

And always _alone_.

Human and vampire, never belonging in the world of either, although a part of him feared if he didn't eat or sleep, or even drink something, the human half of him would be dead soon enough. And another part of him only hoped it would come even sooner. It was a pesky thing anyway. Urged him to let in those who only used him and discarded him when they were done, and cared not how he survived _after_.

So many times he’d almost died, and so many times, he almost let himself stay dead. To finally have peace, to rest and be rid of the pain in his heart that devoured him whole some days no matter how desperately he pushed it away, now more than ever. 

But as much as he hated it, he was a survivor.

He would stay alive. As he'd promised months ago ( _a year? Years? Who knows, he lost track of the days when he realized they were probably never coming back_ ). 

Despite so, if death came for him, he had been ready to go for quite a while now.

Ever since his mother died and everything fell apart, ever since he'd been forced to fight his father to save humanity in her name, Alucard had been ready. Ready to have everything just _stop_. The dhampir knew his father had died with his mother, and the only thing that remained afterwards was a cold shell fueled only by hatred, but now he was starting to think they weren't so different in that regard. 

He survived, fueled by a purpose to defeat his father, because he knew this was not what his mother would want, he knew she would want him to stop Dracula before he'd gone too far. Except they were both already too far gone. Until he'd been found by Trevor and Sypha, the closest thing to friends he'd ever had....

They made him feel wanted, like he finally had someone other than his mother and father to fight for, to stand by him. And then just like everyone else, they left him too. 

Alucard had been so _sure_ he would die, killed by his own father, having bought his friends some time to finish what Dracula had started. That maybe now his life and death would mean _something_. It wasn't like Trevor or Sypha would miss him too much. They would manage just fine without him, probably forget about him even in a few years, if he even stayed in their minds that long.

But he survived. As he always did. In his last moments, the ghost of Vlad Tepes peeked through what he had become, horrified when he saw what he had done to his son...and gave up. He had let Alucard put an end to his suffering.

Even as the moment played in his mind over and over again, he'd pasted on a smile for his Hunter and Speaker, seeing how happy they were to be rid of the horrible tyrant. What did it matter to them that through it all, whatever he'd become, Dracula was still his father. His father who had raised him, who had tucked him at night, and told him stories he'd collected over the ages, who had soothed him when he woke up from a nightmare, who had laughed and smiled and _loved_ , loved _him_ , loved his mother. 

Still, he put on a smile for their victory. A smile for his friends, until they left to no surprise. Why would they stay, after all? They came to find him looking for a savior, but now he had served his purpose. What use did he have anymore? Nothing, even his knowledge they could find elsewhere. Except he apparently had one last thing left.

Trevor had placed Alucard in charge of protecting the Belmont Hold and Dracula's castle. Be their guard dog and stay alive, keep someone from coming by to use the knowledge for their own less than moral ends. _Of course._ What else was he good _for?_

_Just let them come, let them destroy each other. What did he care?_

But he'd made a promise. And as much as he'd like to end it all, he could never do it. At times, he'd always come close, but never enough to actually give in and give up. It would all be so much easier if he could.

Instead, he was stuck watching a castle haunted by his memories, seeing their ghosts roam these halls, his ghost. Faint nearly transparent figures whose laughter and voices echoed even if he couldn't see them. His mother and father's faces, sometimes his own as a young child. So carefree and happy. 

He didn't know what was worse, to continue seeing his memories play out before him forever, reminding him of happier and simpler times always drifting just out of his reach, seeing his mother's kind eyes and his father's warm smiles. Or never seeing them at all as they faded away with the years. Or forgetting....losing his mind more and more each day as he spent the rest of his life alone until he forgot what it was like to be alive at all.

Loneliness had grounded his edges down to sand, and maybe that's why he'd been so _stupid_ to fall for it. Never again. Their bodies guarding the doors made sure of it. For the first time in a long time, they'd made him feel truly happy, made him forget the cruelty of the world he'd given up everything to save. And then just like Sypha, just like Trevor, they turned out to just be using him for their own ends, and when he wouldn't give them what they wanted, they tried to throw him away and take it for their own.

He still remembered their touches, their words and sly smiles. His pleas and their anger ( _if they had only waited, if they had only let him go, he would have forgiven them, stupid fool he was, because through it all, a part of him still loved them_ ). Their blood splattered all over him and his sheets.

He should have let them kill him. But, instead, he chose to survive and let them die in his place.

Covered in scars, he wanted to disappear, to find some small hole to crawl into and die, to sleep and never wake up, to not let anyone see him so _pathetic_. But he couldn't do either, so instead, he curled up into a ball, naked and bleeding, tears streaming down his face. A teenager trapped in a man's body, and at that moment, wanting nothing more than his mother and father to comfort him. 

But they were gone. And he was, once again, alone. With no idea what to do or how to deal with it, and so he didn't. Instead, Alucard decided to take a page out of his father's book, finally seeing what he meant about humanity being little more than a pest that would never change its ways no matter what they saw. He mopped up his tears and filled the emptiness in his chest with rage. Even so, as he glanced at their bodies where he set them up, he hadn't been able to leave them without some sense of dignity in death. He lied to himself it was only to make them seem as if they hadn't even made it to the door before being slaughtered by the monster behind the castle doors.

With that done, the lord and guardian of the estate sealed the doors shut with the sole promise to himself to keep them closed this time around. At least now, no one could hurt him again. If he always wound up alone, perhaps it was better if he just stayed that way. 

The dolls of his friends stared at him in judgement as they watched him walk around in his father's cloak, (out of longing for a father long gone and out of such shame of his scars and his own body he couldn’t stand to look at it anymore) the cloth dragging behind him in empty, abandoned halls, and found more distractions from the inevitable as he felt his humanity slip away. Sometimes, they spoke, chastising him for what he was doing with his life ( _like they could talk, it was their fault_ ) He almost burned them, tore them apart so he'd never have to look at or think of them again. But he just _couldn't do it_.

So he locked them away instead. Like he did everything else that reminded him of the pain in his chest not even anger could give illusion of filling some nights.

\------------------------------------------

_Oh, wait...no, they didn't._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we go! So, I am absolutely still pissed about the wasted potential of Taka and Sumi. I understand that they had a number of arcs to focus on and so had to come up short with at least one of them, but seriously? They did seem a bit suspicious, but their characters were underdeveloped and seemed to only be put in to explain Alucard's descent into darkness. Their betrayal felt like it came out of nowhere considering how quickly they went from friendly and even caring for him just a bit despite themselves to suddenly being so aggressive and accusatory, only seeing him as their enemy. Like, I think they wanted to portray that despite Alucard's kindness, it's their upbringing as vampire slaves raised in captivity that made them too distrustful and expecting him to reveal he's no better than their former master since it's obvious they still have some remaining trauma because of that.
> 
> Not to mention, I like them before That Scene happened because they had so much POTENTIAL characterwise and plot wise. That and I was drawn in with the temptation of a cute found family, but then episode nine happened and crushed my soul. 
> 
> Plus, like the comedic potential of avoiding That Scene with Taka and Sumi instead being semi-redeemed into Alucard’s true neutral and chaotic friends (or cute poly couple because polyamory gets SO little positive rep), their kindness being more a ruse for comedy instead of tragedy. Not to mention the way we could have gotten the arc of them learning not everyone is out to get them or has an ulterior motive. Like, I don't mind the way a majority of Castlevania's themes are that humanity is shitty, because honestly, I don't think they're wrong, but I also wish they'd show that while not all of humanity is good...it's not ALL bad either. ANYWAY, rant over, thanks for listening if you did. This is basically my way of fixing how dirty Alucard was done this season, and this is the prologue. The actual next chapter is up next.


	2. Anyway The Wind Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd be surprised how less frightening storybook monsters become when you live with a real one.

> 
>     ❝ _And there ain't a thing that you can do  
>     >   
>     >  When the weather takes a turn on you_❞

_ It's easy to forget how fast things can go wrong once the story is finished. But as such is life. And life is somehow both beautiful and painfully horrid in the same breath.  _

_ For newfound friends can turn on you in an instant, hope can be crushed, and in an age of magic and superstition, people can look for demons and monsters in all the wrong places. _

_ Times like those, when many followed the Church and even those who didn't but held a fear and hatred of perceived evil—a time which perceived evil could be mistaken as... relatively anything outside their version of normal—it was not uncommon for an innocent to be accused. And eventually attacked for it.  _

_ Even if it were for the simple act of existing. _

=============

_ These flowers were perfect! _

A young girl kneeled in a clearing on a day near the end of summer. Black hair curled down her back with skin a mix of both her mother's and father's, the shade of wet sand. Not too dark but dark enough it earned her the occasional dirty look when people saw her. Though she’d only been in this world for her six years of life, she was no stranger to how the world was, no stranger to the harshness of the wind. How easily just like people, it could turn on you from fair-weathered to violent at the drop of a coin, and how quick a sunny day could fill with dark clouds.

But she hadn’t seen enough to hide the heart on her sleeve. Never been on the direct other end of her father’s temper, only seen and heard it. Never been on the direct other end of people’s prejudices, only noticing looks and harsh whispers. Grown faster in some ways but still a child, naive to some ways of the world and seeing how it  _ could _ be rather than as it was. 

The daughter of a man who kept a firm grip on his family and never took quite well to the slightest indication he may lose it, and of a woman who held a way with words and melodies, her voice soothing the worst of tempers and able to persuade those who stood like stone against the harsh wind. An artist in the ways of music with her beauty marred by bruises. And you know how some artists are…

Sometimes, they leave people behind.

The woman had been special. Special in a way that could be  _ used _ . Special in a way that one couldn’t tell at first glance.

Just as the little girl was. Having a gift none would suspect lied beneath the skin. One she didn’t even realize she used at times.

She picked vibrant flowers of multiple colors, carrying them in her arms as she tried to think on how to arrange them together to make a crown.

Her brother needed something to cheer him up. And when she finished, she was going to give it to him and then hug the sadness right out of him.

It had started off simple enough. Aileen has wanted to go on an adventure, and when she caught her older brother, Caelan going off into the forest alone with a servant boy, she figured it was the perfect chance. She snuck away from her nanny’s side and followed them deeper and deeper until they were sure no one could see them.

Aileen watched hidden under the cover of the forest's plantlife as they talked together, as the servant boy who'd been raised alongside them as long as she could remember cleaned and wrapped Caelan's wounds. The wounds their father had given him during the previous night's rages where Aileen would escape to her room and hide under the bed, shielding her ears from the shouts and screaming as she pretended to be somewhere else. And she watched when her brother started crying, tears quietly rolling down his cheeks. The servant boy held Caelan's hands in his own, kissing his tears away gently and letting him curl up against him on the ground. A frown curled Aileen's small mouth, not knowing what to do as she watched her big brother who'd always seemed so strong choke out sobs and hide his face into his friend's chest, the blond whispering words of comfort. 

Aileen never liked seeing her brother cry. He was a big boy, Daddy said. He could take care of himself. But that didn't stop her from sneaking into his bed at night when she heard him having a nightmare, or down to the basement after Daddy went to sleep to comfort him or bring him food when Daddy would lock him inside and tell him to pray for God's forgiveness (Caelan never sinned, Daddy sinned, but Aileen seemed to be the only one who knew that).

That was why she was going to chase the sadness away like she always did. So, she went on a quest to find something to make him happy. And no one could stay sad with a crown of pretty, nice-smelling flowers.

No one.

Well, unless they were allergic, but thankfully, Caelan wasn't.

How was she supposed to know? It wasn’t like anyone had come to her village talking of a castle hidden deep in the forest. A castle that had once housed a great wickedness and a new one that might be brewing inside. A castle taller than the titans of old and with an aura black as the abyss, molded by darkness itself. It had to have been created by something supernatural, for no mere human could create something so magnificent. 

No one had come running telling tales about a castle with two bodies staked at the steps of the castle. Or the dhampir within who had put them there. For surely if they had, she would have been kept under closer watch.

A dhampir who had become aware of the faint scent of humanity lingering too close to his home for comfort as he foraged for food to make his next meal. Human but something else as well, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint but figured best to see what it was. His sword rested at his side, waiting to be called should he decide to add another body to the trail of death at his home's door. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Aileen turned and looked up to see a tall man before her. Funny, she should have heard him walk up behind her. Or at the very least sensed him, his aura dim but strong and radiating off him in waves. Golden blond locks caught the sunlight as it fell loose to the small of his back, catching her attention above all else. Nearly everything else came secondary in her vision. The way he carried himself reminded her of the nobility Aileen had seen pass through her home, but his clothing was simple. A long black cloak grazed the floor that looked much too large, covering up a white shirt and a pair of black pants and boots, which Aileen couldn’t help find odd. A chill had filled the air to warn of the coming autumn and eventual winter, but not enough to warrant a cloak as heavy as the one he seemed to wear. His expression was cold, skin paler than a corpse’s and dark circles under his eyes, cheeks sunken. 

But her eyes kept going back to his hair, wondering if it felt as soft as it looked. She’d never seen hair so light before. In her village, she’d seen brown hair, black hair, red hair, an occasional combination of the two, but blond hair was a rarity (at least to her) that she’d seen only a few times in real life. Zachary was the one person she actually knew and saw up close with blond hair, but it was a dirty, dark blond, nowhere near the brightness of the sun the man had.

Mouth opened in a tiny ‘O,’ the child gaped at him. “Are you an angel?” she asked in awe.

The strange man raised an eyebrow. “No,” he said curtly. “But I do believe you are on my land, and I’d rather you leave before someone comes for you.”

“Why?”

“Because then you will all die.”

She rose and stared at him a moment before closing her eyes. The magic she has no idea what to call or how to use, only that it’s  _ there _ , she felt surface. Her eyes opened. The world that met her vision had lost all colors in many ways, but had gained so much  _ life _ in others. All of its living creatures retained its color but had become surrounded by branching lights, sparks concentrating in clusters, herself included, some curling in swirls from every animal she sensed nearby, the essential life force that ran through everything and everyone.

Sometimes, she wondered how it’d feel if she simply decided to breathe it in, all the swirls and often vibrant colors, but she never did. It overwhelmed her at times, in a place with so many emotions, so many people, and it was Caelan’s turn to comfort her as it all became too much and she’d burst into tears.

Still, as she gazed at the strange man now, she could tell he wasn’t a bad man. Not bad enough to do what he threatened. Though darkness tainted the light aura surrounding him, it was not a darkness that made her scared but rather one that made her curious, seeing how similar it was to her brother’s. However, the amount of negative emotions and thoughts radiating off him made her head dizzy, so she couldn’t gaze at it too long. Blinking, the energy became invisible to her once more, and she squinted her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side in consideration.

Another thing she had sensed was that he most certainly wasn’t completely human, his energy was too different from the ones she had seen. His heart beat too slow compared to her own…

But he wasn’t a bad person.

Confident in her assessment, Aileen shook her head. “No, we won’t. Daddy doesn’t even know I’m gone.” Then she shifted the flowers to her other hand and outstretched the newly freed one. “It’s nice to meet you,” she chirped.

The man’s lips curled into a frown, and her hand went ignored. “Don’t you know these woods are dangerous?” he demanded. “There are things here that would like nothing more than to see you dead.”

Folding her arms across her chest, she mirrored his expression. “ _ I’m _ on a quest,” said Aileen with all the self-assuredness of children who hadn’t yet learned how to truly fear. Besides, when one lived with a real monster in their own home, the monsters in fairy tales and lore seemed less scary. “And  _ you _ are being very rude.”

He seemed taken back by her brash statement. A pause. Then the stranger unsheathed the sword at his side and gestured over her shoulder, pointing it toward the cluster of trees. “That quest ends now,” he said. “Go home.”

Raising an eyebrow at the sword, Aileen decided to show  _ him _ to tell her what to do. Rather than run away, she stepped closer and lifted her arms. “Pick me up.”

The stranger hesitated, but then displayed the same obedience many did when she asked in her sweet voice, and did just that. Sheathing his sword, he raised Aileen and set her on his hip, albeit clumsily. Then right after the action was done, he looked flummoxed at how quickly he’d given in, just like many others had, but few could fight the pull her voice held to listen and abide.

Pleased, Aileen began playing with his hair, finding it a bit coarse, but still pretty up close as she'd found it afar. “What is your name?”

“None of your concern,” the stranger answered, albeit his tone held a more uncertain edge to it.

“Hmm.” Less pleased, Aileen softened her voice and spoke again. “Tell me.  _ Pleeeease _ .”

“Alucard.” It came out monotone, and he quickly shook his head as soon as the word was out of his mouth. His expression turned slightly more alarmed.

“Al-u-card.” Aileen repeated the foreign name. “You have very nice hair, Al-u-card. Like Rapunzel’s. Your name’s kind of like hers, too.”

“Um…”

“What’s wrong with your heart?” Aileen pressed her ear to Al-u-card’s chest. “Are you sick?” She felt him tense and then her feet on the earth as he placed her down. Aileen huffed but didn’t ask him to pick her up again. 

“What are you?” Al-u-card asked in a low voice.

“I’m Aileen.”

“Why are you here,  _ Aileen _ ?” 

For some reason, her name sounded weird on his lips. “I told you, I’m on a quest,” Aileen lifted up her flowers, a large smile on her face. “I’m going to make Caelan happy again.” 

Al-u-card had a funny expression on his face. His eyes were very pretty, too, golden like his hair with long lashes. She remembered the darkness in his aura and picked out one of the flowers in the bunch she’d gathered and held it out. “To make you happy, too,” she offered in explanation, the blue flower in her hands outstretched. He blinked, expression still slightly bewildered. “Because you’re also very sad, I can tell.”

He blinked once. Twice. He seemed to even consider her before his eyes centered on something behind her and his expression froze over, although something flickered in his eyes before he let out an inaudible sigh. “I’ll let you be this time.” He turned his back to her, his cape sweeping behind him. “But don’t expect such mercy from me if I catch you here again."

And then, just like that, he was gone within the blink of an eye. In the same instant she felt someone turn her around and grip her arms in a vice-like grip. “Aileen! What are you doing here? You know you’re not supposed to go anywhere without me or Bianca!”

Caelan released her, quickly checking her over for any visible injuries. “I’ve told you once, I’ve told a million times, never talk to strangers,” he hissed, turning her head this way and that. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No,” Aileen said, confused. Why would he? “He’s rude, but he’s not bad like Mr. Williams.”

Having finished his assessment, he held her face to make sure she looked him in the eye for his next words to make sure she heard him. “You could have gotten hurt. You can’t just run off to the first place you see...” he began to lecture, but the joke was on him. She had learned enough in her six years to tune him out, raising the volume of the music in her mind to drown out his voice.

Still, she couldn’t help but observe him. Looking him straight in the face made her frown. An unsightly bruise stood on the right side of his nose, the corner of his lip swollen and the bottom split. The black and blues of his right eye from last time their father got into one of his moods was now turning a mottled yellow-green. A cut ran from the corner of his nose to his jaw; new and messy stitches replaced the previous bandaging along the corner of his left eye and no longer had blood seeping through but the fact it was there at all didn’t make her feel any better.

His shirt had been buttoned all the way up to his chin and the sleeves rolled back down to his wrist, but Aileen had already seen the bruises last night to know they were there, and from watching, knew about the bandages underneath. Not to mention the one he couldn’t hide between the pointer finger and thumb of his right hand that made it so he couldn’t hold anything without wincing.

“Here,” she said suddenly, thrusting the bunch of flowers she gathered in his face. He instinctively flinched back before it registered. “Does it make you happy?” she asked hopefully.

He stared at her a moment before letting out a heavy sigh, giving her an exasperated look. “...You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Figured.”

Then slowly, despite himself, his face broke out into a smile, bright and pure. "So, if you came out all this way, these flowers must be special, huh, songbird?" he said, voice tired but not wanting to reject the tender gesture as he rested his forearms on his knees. “What are they?”

“Hmm.” Her face scrunched up in concentration before she shook her head. “I don’t know. But we can look later, right?” Her excitement was hard to say no to, the pure mirth she gave off like sunlight peeking through the clouds of a stormy day. 

“Sure.” The simple word came out reluctant. The library in their home was impressive, and it was where he liked to be more than any other room, but home was really the last place he desired to be. But...home it was. And home was where they’d return. Gently, he took the flowers from his sister’s hands, holding it as if they were made of glass. “But you have to promise you won’t come here again, okay?” he demanded, more firmly this time.

Aileen gave a very solemn nod. And hid her crossed fingers behind her back.

Relaxing, he rose and took the child’s hand in his free one, leading her back the path he came, where his companion waited patiently, Zachary’s eyes watching the distance behind them. His eyes softened when they met Caelan’s. 

“Sorry to say our time’s up.” If either knew what Aileen saw between them, neither said a word. Ruffling her hair as she passed to her indignant shout, he pasted on a smile for her benefit. “Little songbirds shouldn’t fly too far from their nest.”

_ Even if the nest is more dangerous than the wilderness. _

Turning in Caelan’s grip, Aileen squinted to see if the strange man was still there only to see nothing. A flash of gold in the trees, however, made her grin. “Bye, Al-u-card!” she shouted suddenly, waving one arm wildly before Caelan quickly grabbed her and hurried away.

Still, the little girl already had a mission in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the main reasons I made Aileen this young is because my experience babysitting makes me pretty sure only either seriously brave adults who don't give a shit or children are the ones actually bold enough to look at a strange, possibly dangerous man in the forest and basically say, "stop being a rude ass bitch."
> 
> If you hadn't been able to tell what Aileen is from the tags and the signs, the main reason I made her as this is because of the interpretations I've seen where her kind feed off of the negative energy they cause. So in a way, she can see emotions. She means well, but she's also used to getting what she wants since few have actually told her no when she asks for something.


	3. He Isn't Alright

> 
>     ❝And I still feel that rush in my veins  
>     > It twists my head just to think  
>     > All those people in those old photographs I've seen are dead

_There are different kinds of torture, but sometimes, memories are the worst kind._

_Wounds can be healed with time, scar and scab over. Scars on the mind, however, are a much more difficult thing._

\-------------------

There are some people who just are not meant to stand on their own.

People who are just not meant to live alone.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, especially after the last time he attempted to resolve this issue, Adrian “Alucard” Tepes was one of these people.

Of course, at first, it had been nice to finally have some peace and quiet after the chaos of his journey. Everything had seemed so hopeful even as he tried to push away the ghosts and grief and guilt. He did what he could, all he could, to distract his mind from the dark thoughts forever drifting to the forefront. He cleaned the castle, replaced what he could, swept up broken glass, singing songs under his breath his mother used to teach him. He placed spells on the books in his father’s library to protect them from the elements and attempted to organize them in the way he would have based on subject, title, and height rather than author (the names of the people who wrote them became irrelevant after a couple of centuries). He created a shaft to lower himself into the Belmont Hold without walking down all those stairs. He experimented with recipes he’d never had the time before to, even if it was only himself to feed and the occasional animals who’d wander in.

But the thing is, Alucard had never a chance to get used to even the thought of living alone. Growing up, he’d always been surrounded by other people. His parents, servants, the vampires who’d wander in and out from his father’s court, his mother’s patients as she taught him all she’d learned from his father. Even when they were all gone, there was Trevor and Sypha, constant thorns in his side but good company.

Now, the sudden shift into absolute silence was overwhelming. It took only a month before his cleaning efforts slowed. He just couldn’t bring himself to. He knew of the mess accumulating but what was the point? He was just a guardian of human and vampire knowledge to hide away with nothing to do except try to pass the time. At least with his father, he was too concerned trying not to die to succumb to boredom or dwell on his torturous existence.

Shards of glass had begun to gather dust, he still read to pass time, soaking up all the knowledge he could, but he’d begun dwelling on one line for what seemed hours at a time, and had long given up on trying to remember which went where Since that night, he kept finding himself in his old bedroom again, gazing at his father’s ring but unable to bring himself to clean up the damages.

It’s something to do, something he should do. After all, he has nothing but time on his hands. But it feels like more than he has the energy for. 

Their ghosts follow him wherever he goes, in every room, on the rare occasion he tries to sleep. His mother sweeping in the kitchen, her bright eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. Reading in the library only to look and see his father sitting at a table while his mother chased his younger self around, or hearing laughter where he is alone. Sometimes they are sitting with a child with golden hair and bright eyes in their lap as they recite a tale from the pages of an old storybook.

Taka and Sumi’s ghosts seemed to be added to the castle’s, sometimes their touches and seductive words that he swats at, but sometimes they are like he once knew them before they betrayed him. Taka brightly smiling and sitting at his dinner table, asking what’s for lunch, Sumi’s arms around his neck as she laughs for him to carry her, teasing him lightheartedly. 

Their gaping faces and accusing eyes watch him every morning when he comes and goes. It wasn’t his fault. It soon becomes a mantra whenever he sees their decaying bodies. 

_It wasn't my fault. I tried. I tried to be better._

He gave them every courtesy and kindness he could think of and still, they spat in his face. He had no choice.

_ If you cannot live with them, at least do them no harm. _

Perhaps. He’d hold to that promise as long as they all left him alone. Alone with his ghosts that follow him wherever he goes and skitter through the halls.

He still sees them in his mind’s eye when there’s nothing to do and he makes a futile attempt to sleep (never in his old room; he’d scrubbed and cleaned every inch of it, but stepping inside still remained like setting foot into a minefield of memories). His mother’s burning body turning to ash before his eyes, his father’s dying body in his arms as he drove his murder weapon into his chest, Taka and Sumi's slit throats as they choked and gurgled on their own blood. He sees their faces on the rare occasions sleep manages to come. 

When he can’t sleep, he downs a bottle of wine and suddenly understands Trevor a whole lot better than he would have liked. And when it’s empty, he throws it at the wall, the shattering of glass as it litters the floor somehow comforting. 

He doesn’t bother picking it up.

He still ate, sparingly, but kept gathering more than he’d stomach. And it was as he sat in his father’s old study with a book in his hand that his mind went back to the child he met that day.

_ “To make you happy, too.” The girl extended a small hand and held up a flower, it’s blue petals vibrant with life not yet robbed by the onslaught of the colder seasons.  _

He had every intention of sending her on her way but when she asked in a crystalline, melodic voice, something in the back of his mind felt compelled to obey. And before he knew what he was doing, he found he had. She was no demon; the thought had crossed his mind but she smelled too human and looked like any normal child.

Still, there was definitely something else in her scent, and perhaps in her blood. Most likely that with how easily she got him to listen to her. And that same scent came from the boy that had followed her before freezing at the sight of Alucard.

Well, whatever they were, as long as they stayed away, neither were his problem.

_At least do them no harm, for that of humans' is a hard lot._ His mother would want him to follow that saying. Somehow he saw that in the boy's face when he came to get the child that'd wandered too close to a stranger that could snap her neck with as little effort as one with a twig. That their lives were hard enough without him making it harder. So rather than scare them off with more physical threats, he let his presence be threat enough and disappeared.

_ The little girl looked back, eyes searching for him. She waved and called out his name. He didn’t answer, didn’t wave back, but there was such innocence in the gesture he had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting at her and her friend to go home, to stay away, to not trust the world. That you could give all you want, but they’ll all still stab you in the back eventually. _

_ He stayed silent and watched the older boy grab her and turn her back to the path. The boy has curls like spilled ink and skin a warm brown (there are bruises and scars on his face he can see from even here), young but a haunted look in his eyes he knew too well. That he’d seen in his own eyes in the mirror, that he’d seen in another pair not too long ago. _

_ Ones whose smiles seemed so bright he forgot so often the cruelties they’d seen, ones who had seen so much they could no longer trust at all. _

He slammed the book close and got up. As he reached forward, his sleeve inched up and he caught sight of the blisters wrapped around his arms like twisted vines. Pink and shiny, still stinging to the touch despite it being months since the silver burned through his skin.

_ You lied to us. _

He downed another bottle of wine in hopes it will muddle his thoughts enough to make the ghosts go away.


	4. Hard Love

> 
>     ❝there's a reason that the road is long  
>     > It takes some time to make your courage strong❞

_ No matter how hard you can try, you can never truly hate someone you love. But perhaps there might be that small part you shove away that really, _ really, _tries to._

_ Still, you stay out of some dim hope things might be better one day. Or because they've made sure if you were to leave, you'd have nowhere to turn. _

_ \------------------------------- _

In a village a good hour's walk following the forest path, there stood a place where monsters hide under the guise of human skin. A dark, looming house of stone in the village center. A house where if you pass by, you may hear shouts and screams of pain that ended as abruptly as it started from inside, glass shattering and things smashing against the walls. The master of the house kept a firm grip on his household but he loved the feel of control over others more than anything else, emotionally, physically, anything to keep them with him. 

If a soul should happen to knock on the door out of kindness or curiosity, they’d be met at the door by a boy barely past the age of fifteen who would look at them with red eyes, one sometimes swollen shut or bruised black and blue (a bruise now growing a mottled yellow-green on Caelan’s face), long-sleeved shirt buttoned up to his chin to conceal any further marks he might have, and tell them that the noise must have been only the wind. Or perhaps a young girl who never had a single mark on her but whose nose was runny and eyes puffy from crying.

People may stop, might look in their direction with an almost sympathetic look on their faces, but then they’d walk right on.

After all, what a man does with his property in the privacy of his own home is his business and no one else’s. 

Zachary’s hand stung with the cold seeping into his bones as he opened the door to the servant's entrance. He felt his nerves spike even more than they had as he led Caelan through the servant’s entrance and into the hallways used to get around when the master had guests or happened to be in one of his moods. He wasn't worried about himself, though, he never was. After a while, one learned to become numb to the pain (never let it show, less it actually become worse). His greater concern was Caelan getting caught and receiving the brute of his father’s anger once more, or, God forbid, the old man finally killing him one of these days.

A fact Caelan seemed certain of and accepted. If he continued to stay in this house, Mister Byrne  _ would _ eventually kill him someday. By accident or on purpose, so lost in his rage. As long as it gave someone for him to take it out on that wasn’t his sister, he’d become okay with it.

_ (And one more option that none said aloud, but Aileen was not the only one sharp objects were locked away from. Nor the only one not allowed to be left alone under any circumstances. Not after last time) _

But for now, it was as it was.

Aileen seemed oblivious to it all but knew better than to make too much noise as they entered into the library through a door in the wall. Daddy wasn’t always in a bad mood. Sometimes, he had his good days. Days where he was kind, loving, and letting mistakes go with ease, addressing his children with terms of endearment and gentle touches. On those days, he’d give them gifts, apologize for Caelan’s injuries he himself inflicted, beg for forgiveness and promise it’d never happen again. Play oblivious to the flinching, even asking sometimes where he’d gotten such bruises from if it’d been a while.

But everyone who knew Mister Byrne, those who worked under him, those who lived with him, also knew how easily those good moods could sour without warning. They could last hours, days, even weeks, but then abruptly, all it would take was the slightest mistake, a wrong word, a wrong step, even the right words but phrased the wrong _way_ could set him off. And suddenly, kind words became harsh and piercing deeper than any dagger, gentle touches becoming ones that left black and blue blooms on skin.

So to walk around in his house would be to forever walk on a minefield, never quite sure what to expect.

It was maddening.

But it was just how their father was. A nightmare and a dream within the same person.

And until they realized which one he was today, he was generally avoided unless absolutely necessary. 

Settling into the peaceful quiet of the library, Aileen immediately went to the rows upon rows of books while Caelan searched for a vase to place the flowers. Searching through the spines and covers, she found the book right where it always was (Daddy liked everything to be in order, and to keep him in a good mood, it was best to do everything he liked  _ exactly _ how he liked it). Ignoring the snippets of conversation that met her ears, she reached for it above her, and frowned when her hand came up too short, small fingers grazing the spine but too far away to actually wrap around.

With a huff, she moved away and grabbed a chair from the nearby reading table, dragging it over to her previous spot. A loud screech followed her movements as the legs scraped against the floor that grated against her ears, but she was on a mission. And she was going to get it done.

"Lord, I doubt you even listen to me at this point but  _ please _ let that not leave scuff marks,” muttered Zachary as he turned his head to the noise.

“We can cover it up, don’t worry,” Caelan was quick to appease, the words leaving his mouth in a rush. “I mean, it’s not that--Aileen!”

Aileen didn’t bother listening to either of them as she finally reached the book nearly half her size and the weight of all the knowledge inside made her lose her balance as she yanked it out. A pair of arms caught her before she hit the floor. “What are you doing now?” The exasperation was clear in her brother’s voice now, but she merely untangled herself out of his hold and while struggling not to drop the book, she heaved it onto the table and climbed onto an empty chair, criss-crossing her legs on the seat.

“Trying to find Al-u-card,” she said simply, flipping it open to find graphic and detailed illustrations sketched in of every supernatural creature documented inside on parchment yellowed with age. Demons, monsters, spirits, their telltale features marked and drawn separately to give a close-up, descriptions scribbled above and beside each picture in ink, handwriting eligible but just barely, the letters slanted and nearly melded together. As if the author had been trying their best to write fast enough to keep up with any research they’d been doing, which frankly, if any of it were accurate, they likely were. 

“Songbird, I told you, leave him alone--”

“But he’s like us.”

The responding silence was deafening. “...What do you mean, Aileen?” Caelan asked gently, a nervous edge to his tone as he kneeled down to look where she was. 

She kept flipping through page after page, passing by the more gruesome. That couldn’t be him, he was too pretty. “He’s weird, and there’s something wrong with his heart,” she said. “I think he might be sick.”

“I don’t know, maybe she saw a ghost,” shrugged Zachary, already beginning to set back the books that had tumbled out in the wake of their disturbance.

Turning around to flash him a raised eyebrow, the dark-skinned boy watched his partner squirm under his gaze. “Both of us? Come on, Zach,  _ you _ of all people should know it doesn’t work like that.”

Zachary had known what they were for a long time, special but not like how they were special. He was human,  _ fully _ human, but he could see things that weren’t visible to the eyes of most. You could see it in the way you might walk in on him talking to thin air as he cleaned, either just casual things like the weather or chastising them for the fallen portrait on the floor and for plopping themselves on the furniture wherever they may please ( _ “if you don’t get your feet off the table right now, the devil’s fury will be nothing compared to mine”).  _ It had become a common sight around the household, but those superstitious suspected to do anything about him would anger the spirits that had chosen him to show themselves to.

He supposed in a way, the rumors of Dracula, and what he’d done when humans killed the human he swore to protect, had helped him.

“True. And considering neither of you have said anything about the dead lady walking around in circles, I guess it can’t be that.”

“What?”

“What?” His dark eyes became wide with feigned innocence, and Caelan stared at him a moment longer before shaking his head in the  _ ‘What am I to do with you? _ ’ way Zachary had become so familiar with.

“ _ Anyway _ .” With a pointed look his direction as he shook his head, he turned back to his sister whose impatient eyes scanned each page she found, unsatisfied with her findings. “I thought you wanted to go look at the flowers, right?” His tone was the same he used with his father trying to calm him down from a mood before it could truly begin, complacent, soft, his power of suggestion influencing his mind and manipulating it to distract him from his current train of thought. 

And it was pretty much similar enough anyway. For he had a feeling that what Aileen wanted to find was something best left alone.

However, Aileen was not their father. And just like her charm wouldn’t work on him, it did not work on her either. “But I have to  _ know _ !” she said. Her lips formed into a pout demanding to be taken seriously, although it looked more  _ cute _ than anything else on his youthful face. Then her face lit up and she let out a gasp as she grabbed onto his sleeve. “Do you think he’s a faerie?!”

Caelan dropped his head in defeat. A laugh came from behind him. “This is your fault for giving her that storybook for her birthday.”

He lifted his head for the sole purpose of flashy Zachary a positively  _ filthy _ look. “I didn’t think she’d actually want to go  _ look _ for them!” he snapped back. Then to Aileen, “Songbird, I told you. Faeries are nice in theory, but one, you’ll only find them in faerie rings and two, faeries are  _ not _ nice. If they find you, they take you away forever.”

Huffing, Aileen folded her arms. “That’s the  _ fae’s _ problem! If I want them to kidnap me, that’s my choice!”

Her brother blinked once. Blinked twice. Then sighed as he let his head fall, this time his face pressed against the table. “I can’t with you,” he said, his voice muffled by the wood. “Zachary, you take this one.”

“Okay.” Kneeling down, he gestured for Aileen to look at him. “Listen to me very carefully,” he said, blowing a strand of blond hair out of his face. “Does your Al-u-card friend have wings?”

She shook her head, face scrunched up in thought.

“Does he sparkle?”

Another shake of the head.

“Did he ask to have your name?”

A moment’s hesitation. “He asked me what I am!” she said excitedly. 

“That doesn’t count, pipsqueak. The fae have a very specific way with words,” smirked Zachary. “If it was a faerie, it would have asked if he could  _ have _ your name. Literally.”

Aileen’s face fell into a pout again. “Fine, but he is like us, I know he is!” she insisted, her hands flying out wildly and almost smacking him in the face. 

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Then, as your friendly village supernatural expect--”

“Oh, please, you once bickered with a ghost over the proper way to sew on a button!” Caelan teased as he lifted his face from the table. 

“And yet, I have not heard a complaint from you after I fixed your coat,” he shot back without pause, then went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Why don’t you tell me what he looked like and I’ll tell you if he’s a…” he hesitated on the wording, knowing the last time he phrased this wrong, Caelan gave him the silent treatment for two whole days-- “if he’s special like you.”

“Nice save,” his partner scoffed.

“I try.”

“Well, he’s pretty, really,  _ really _ pretty,” Aileen said, thinking hard. “He also had bright eyes and wore a lot of black…” Her eyes lit up as she remembered something from when she was up close. “Oh, and he had really sharp teeth!” She put her pointer fingers up to her mouth, pointed downwards to show what she meant. 

In an instant, both boys’ good-natured, teasing smiles faded. A look was exchanged between them. Then, Zachary smiled again, but this one was tight around the edges.

He patted Aileen’s head lightly. “Ah, there’s that sense of humor that has me wake up screaming in the middle of the night.”

She looked up, confused. “But...I’m not being funny!” she protested, standing up on the seat to be eye level as he stood up. “I saw it! I did!”

“It’s late, Aileen,” Caelan said stiffly, all signs of mirth gone. “Why don’t you go to your room, and I’ll tuck you in after I greet Father home?”

“But I’m not tired--”

“ _ Go _ .” Neither his face nor his tone held room for argument as he pointed to the door. Aileen huffed but scampered off the chair. He waited until he heard the soft pitter-patter of her feet fade and the door creaked close before he let out a breath. He propped up his head with one hand and stared at the book before him his little sister had such interest in learning from.

“Of course, it’s not like I have enough to worry about,” he muttered sarcastically to himself. “Surely my beloved sister has enough common sense not to chase after vampires.”

“Are we talking about the same girl who, right after learning about faeries and how they’ll either kidnap or devour her, immediately dragged us out to search for faerie rings?” Zachary asked with a raised brow as he moved beside him, fingers drawn to playing with Caelan’s hair. The touch was so familiar, he didn’t even move from his brooding position.

“Not helping.”

“Sorry, love, but--” taking three strands of hair black as ink, he began to carefully braid them together-- “your sister has a habit of chasing after things that go bump in the night.”

“I just don’t understand what goes on in that head of hers.”

“Caelie, just because you’ve accepted you’re not like anybody else doesn’t mean she has. For a little girl, to live in a place where everything she is--everything you both are--is shunned, that’s a lot to deal with,” he said gently.  _ And that’s not counting your ass of a father.  _ That, he left unsaid, but it’s the thought that counts. “She’s got to listen to your father rant on about your mom--”  _ listen to him beat you if you bring her up or catches on to you using the same power she had _ \-- “listen to the church and their righteous bullshit about how…” there’s dancing around that word again, when he’s never quite sure what to use (monster doesn’t sound right--Caelan’s not a monster. Neither does demon. Creature-- that’s what got him the silent treatment in the first place).

“People like her that don’t exactly fit their definition of normal,” he said instead, “deserve nothing less than Hell. Not to mention the crap the other kids give her just for how she looks. Are you really that surprised she’s so interested in someone else  _ like her _ ?”

_ But he’s like us. _

Caelan’s eyes widened before he shifted, abruptly disrupting Zachary’s braiding as he flipped the book to a marked page.  _ Vampire. _ Eyes scanning the words, he remembered what she said. “ _ There’s something wrong with his heart, _ ” he repeated under his breath. “Vampires don’t  _ have _ a heartbeat.” He looked up at Zachary. “Aileen would have said she didn’t  _ hear _ his heart.”

It took a moment longer for the realization to hit his partner, but when it did, he was silent for a moment before he shrugged. “Guess this friend of hers is a little more like you guys than you think.”

“Great. Just great. Now what am I supposed to do? My sister has a fascination with a possibly homicidal dhampir.”

“...Get her a leash?”

The dirty look he flashed him was answer enough. 

“It was just a suggestion!”

“Still not helping!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long space between updates! I haven't been feeling very well lately, but I'm doing better now. Thankfully, I was able to get this done before the week of the holidays. I hope you guys like this chapter and are having a happy holiday!


End file.
